arekmalang / 123RF Stock Photo
It's that time of the week, time for a white hot sneak peek into my latest work. I'm thrilled to share!
A crop, some rope, a sweet little plug... just what she wants, and all she had to say was make me.
Dixie wanted out of the daily rut and a night to reconnect with her husband. What she got went far beyond her wildest dreams. Who knew a Tuesday night could be so white hot?
“You’re going to make me?”
“Yes, bad girl. Give me your hands.”
Zeke grabbed my wrist, not giving me much of a chance to argue. Something cool slipped over it and clicked. Handcuffs? Oh, hell, yes. He placed the other cuff on my left wrist and turned me back around. Heat and lust burned in his eyes. His jaw worked as he appraised me.
With one finger, he drew a line from my throat down between my breasts to my stomach. God, I wanted him to touch my breasts. Tweak my nipples. To do something. The touches, light and tickly, were sheer torture. I shifted my hips. Damn, I still had my panties on.
“These --” He cupped my breast. “-- need a lift.” Zeke crooked one finger under my chin. “Tell me your safe word.”
Oh, yes. “Indigo.” I dipped my head and breathed in through my nose, out through my mouth.
Heat shimmered in my veins. I loved when he called me that. I wanted to please him. Zeke held the strings from the pouch before me. “Pull.”
I bit down on the string, untying the knot. He stuck his thick fingers into the bag and paused. “Do you want to see this?”
I kept quiet, knowing that was what he wanted.
“Good girl.” He held the bag low enough for me to watch him empty it. He withdrew an elegant crimson rope inch by inch.
I whimpered, not out of fear. Hell, no. Out of excitement. My skin prickled. Zeke trailed his fingers and the end of the rope over my chest. “Hold.”